A/n: OMG! An update! Anyways, got my results back from college, and trying to get a job, and work experience, and there's more exams, etc, so apologies for the lateness.

I, unfortunately, do not own the TMNT. At all. Seriously, that's just unfair.

- It isn't life that weighs us down, its how we carry it -

Donatello had done his best. It was all he really could do. He'd stripped Sam's brother down, cleaned and bandaged all his wounds; even given him a shot of antibiotic's for any possible infections. Now, he had to play the waiting game.

He liked to think of himself as a patient turtle; an understanding turtle. But he just found himself restless of late. What with Danny still missing, and now the sudden reappearance of Ben, he found his patience wearing thin, and everything seemed to grate upon his nerves. It was a lot to take in after all, and he was surprised at how well Sam was doing. Surprised and completely worried. Under the circumstances, he was sure no one should be as calm as she was managing to be.

Hopefully one of his brothers might be able to get her to open up. He'd tried so many times after they had returned; and failed. Bottling ones feelings was not good; he knew from first hand experience, what with Leo and Raphael. Even Michelangelo had his patches.

Sighing, he held his head in his hands, closing his eyes and taking several deep breaths to calm himself. He'd found himself doing this a lot lately, and drinking an awful lot more coffee than he thought was healthy. It was the only way he could stay sane, and relatively awake with the amount of sleep he seemed to be getting.

Rubbing his eyes exasperatedly, he turned back to his computer and stared at the screen blankly, the current program that streamed down the page taking longer than he first assumed. Then again, it was a distraction, and he didn't need much brain power for it, which he was profoundly thankful for. He doubt he could concentrate on anything worthwhile for more than a second in his current state.

"Hey, Donnie, here's that coffee you asked for," a female voice muttered quietly from the doorway, her sudden appearance making him jump.

"Thanks Sam, just stick it on the desk," He flashed a weak grateful smile before turning back to his screen, tapping lazily on a few keys for a moment before stopping and staring blankly once again.

"You should really get some sleep instead of drinking that stuff," she chastised gently, placing the steaming cup carefully on the specified area of the desk.

"Mm," he replied lamely, stifling the yawn that threatened to ripple through his body.

"If you don't go to bed willingly in the next hour, I will make you get some sleep," Sam threatened, poking his arm playfully.

This earned a smile from the bleary eyed turtle, who nodded wisely in reply, "Fine, fine. Just let me get this system check finished and I'll hit the hay."

"Good," Sam smiled weakly. "I'll leave you to it then." With one last glance at the turtle in purple, she left his lab with barely a sound, shutting the door quietly behind her.

Aforementioned turtle turned and watched the door shut with a worried frown. She was trying to take far too much on at once, and he knew what that sort of stress would do to you. It was at times like these he wished he could wave a magic wand and just make everything good again.

But things like that just didn't happen.

Darkness.

That's all he could see, all he could feel, and all he could hear.

It surprised him actually; he didn't know that you could hear darkness, or feel it. It was extraordinary- like being engulfed by cotton wool; everything was dull and suffocating. Yet, strangely comforting.

He knew what the darkness was; it was simple and had no complications. There was no fear, no worry, no sorrow, no surprises- it was just, nothing. He liked that word; nothing. It described the gloom almost perfectly.

But the nothing wasn't perfect, which slightly confused him.

As he grew accustomed to the perpetual night, he began to notice that it wasn't just black that swirled about him. But different shades of black mixed together and splashed across his world; deep blacks, navy blues, greys and deep, rich purples and reds. So deep were these colours that they could've, in fact, been easily mistaken for black at any first glance.

It was a myriad of swirling colours, and over time, these swirling colours began to get brighter. Soon, the different colours were easily distinguishable between each other; no longer did they represent one solid mass to him, but several.

Of course, to him, this wasn't a good thing. It meant that, whilst the feeling of being suffocated was lifting, his comforting world was depleting, and slowly disappearing before his eyes. The colours hurt and scared him; all jumbled together in a chaotic vortex of worry. All the time, it just seemed to get worse.

But a figure was beginning to be formed from the colours. A strange, but familiar figure; someone he knew he could trust with his life. He didn't know how he knew, he just did, and it washed away some of the fear.

This figure took the colours that were beginning to overtake his mind, and sorted them so that they no longer seemed so bad. In fact, it made them all rather pleasant, and he began to wonder why he was ever worried in the first place.

The figure didn't speak. The figure didn't move. It just stood there, like a guardian angel, its hair flowing into the colours as they began to swim in an orderly fashion through his head. It was so wonderful to know that there was someone who was looking after him; who would scare the monsters and demons away, even if he didn't know who she was.

She…

Yes, he was sure that she was a she. Not an it, or a he, but a she. A female watcher who bathed him in a gentle warmth, chasing away the nightmares that had plagued his sleep ever since…

He whimpered. He didn't want to remember. He never wanted to remember. It was too hard to think of what had been that he just wanted to stay in the colours forever, and never wake to the world of torture and lies he had to endure every day since…

Shaking the glistening tears from his eyes, he reached out to the female, wanting to be held; wanting to be told that everything would soon be as it should be; wanting to be told that he was safe.

He wanted to be home.

But as the female watcher stood there, silent and still as always, she began to disappear, just as his simple darkness had. Her appearances had been getting shorter and shorter each night; soon he feared that she would never appear again.

Crying out to her, arms still outstretched, he began to feel a rough pair of hands shaking him. But he refused to wake; he didn't want to return to reality; he didn't want his guardian angel to leave him again.

"No," his tiny voice sobbed as his eyes unwillingly opened, arms falling limply to his sides, realising that he'd actually been reaching out for help this time.

"Same dream every night," a gruff voice murmured venomously from the doorway that led into his dingy little room. "Get up Kagemori, the Master is demanding your presence."

His small head didn't acknowledge that anyone had spoken; all he did was stare blankly at the dirty ceiling above him, listening for the slamming of the door that told him he was once more alone. As soon as it came, he gave in and let the tears flow from his bloodshot eyes; the salty liquid streaming through the thin layer of dirt he had accumulated on his face from being locked up in this room for… however long he'd been resisting.

Sniffing loudly, he wiped his eyes across his sleeve, bringing the world back into a weird sense of clarity.

He had to get up now; he knew what happened if he didn't. Wincing at the thought of gaining another bruise upon his arm, he pushed himself off his bed and pulled on his shoes, doing all this as slowly as possible, but quickly enough not to gain a beating.

It was lucky he even remembered the beatings after his sessions with the Master in the bright, white washed room. Each time he was summoned, he lost a tiny bit of his memory- his precious memories of all those happy times with his grandfather and his siblings; even some of his parents and the turtles. They were slowly trying to erase his past, and all his good feelings; trying to turn him…

But he resisted. He knew that his sister would find him and rescue him; he knew that she would never give up, so neither would he. And he would be ready when she came for him.

If only he could remember her name…

Ow.

That was the only notion running through his clouded mind as he slowly began to wake from a dark unconsciousness where dismembered images of his past were his only companion.

Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow.

Why did he hurt so much? Oh yes, that's right, Karai. He remembered now.

So how was he still alive?

With a lot of effort, he cracked open his eyes, his vision blurred and unreliable for a brief moment before it adjusted to the soft light that bathed the room in which he currently inhabited.

A lab, or so it seemed, was his current residence. Then again, he could be wrong. Labs had metal tables, and cabinets full of vials. This room merely had an oak table, and several cabinets full of medicinal equipment. It made him think of a hospital; kind of smelt like one too.

Most of the walls were actually made of stone (which didn't really speak 'hospital', so he dismissed that guess from his mind), and he lie on a softened table. On further examination, he found that it was, in fact, a bed. A soft bed to be exact; something he wasn't at all used to and found extremely comfortable.

He attempted to use his left arm to push himself off the bed, but found it incredibly stiff; so stiff in fact that he couldn't bend it at all. He turned his head to gaze at it, and blinked in disbelief at the solid white cast wrapped around his forearm. He then lifted his head to gaze in wonder at his other bandaged wounds.

Well, at last things seemed to be in his favour. Though for how long, he did not know.

It occurred to him that someone must have found him, taken him in, and cared for him whilst he was unconscious. For this he was incredibly grateful; he was sure he would've died otherwise.

But a sudden wave of suspicion washed over him. He had no idea who these kind strangers were, or what their intentions could be. For all he knew, they might not be his quarry, but some weird underground race that would sacrifice him to a god or something.

Nose scrunching in disbelief at his own idiotic thoughts, he managed to sit up, wincing at the pain that shot through his body whenever he moved. It was quite irritating indeed to be sitting in an unknown home, with who knows what outside, and being unable to do anything about it due to the fact that all your body wished to do was collapse into a jellied heap.

Huffing noisily at the annoyance of it all, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, and unwillingly left the safety and warmth of the sheets. Although his entire being cried out in protest to the forced actions, he continued onward. If there was one thing he would not do, it was give up.

Leaning heavily on his good leg, he limped to the doorway, noticeable only for the sliver of gold that crept through the cracks between the ceiling and the floor. And, using his good arm, he opened said door and peered out through it silently.

It would be an understatement to say the scene that met his eyes surprised him; but made him feel undeniable jealous, saddened, guilty, and slightly confused as well.

He looked down from his vantage point onto what he guessed was the family room due to the huge home entertainment system, large sofa, and worn armchairs. On the sofa sat his sister, snuggled up between a familiar dark haired male, and a red banded mutant turtle. She looked troubled, but comfortable, as if just the presence of the two males eased her worries. The conversation between them flowed easily, and he often heard them laugh, the soft hum of the TV only acting as a background noise.

He frowned. He'd forgotten how much he missed hearing his sister laugh; forgotten how much he missed spending time with his family. Apparently, during the time he'd been away, he'd forgotten a lot of things.

"Hey Mike, are you coming to watch this film or what?" The red banded turtle shouted, his voice dragging Takumi back from his thoughts.

"Good popcorn takes time. But you wouldn't understand, you Neanderthal," an orange masked turtle stalked towards the small group, beak stuck high into the air as his awful British accent rang through the room.

"What the…? That's a big word for you Mikey," Red glared playfully at orange as the seemingly younger of the two took a seat on one of the armchairs, popcorn bowl held protectively in his arms.

"Besides, if anyone's the Neanderthal, it's Uncle C," Sam smirked, earning herself a playful nudge.

His train of thought wandered again as his ears could no longer cope with the strain of trying to pick up the conversation that went on below him. He found himself turning green with envy at the sight of the mutant turtles playing happy families, and with his sister none the less.

It then hit him who the man was. It was Uncle Casey; the man sitting beside his sister was their Uncle Casey. That's why he'd recognised him before. Needless to say, from the last time he'd seen the male, he'd definitely changed. He seemed more adult somehow; as if he'd finally taken the time to sort his life out.

A guilty flush ran through his being. He should've sorted his life out a long time ago, and he definitely should've told his sister where he was going. He wanted to go down there right now and apologise for everything; wanted to hold her and Ryou in his arms and just tell them everything. But that wasn't going to happen- there were just too many unresolved issues between them, and he knew Sam's temper; she wasn't going to let go of this easily.

He clutched his side as a sudden bolt of pain shot through his stomach, and attempted to steady himself upon the doorframe with his broken arm. In hindsight, that wasn't the best idea he'd ever had.

His broken arm slipped as the door flew open dramatically and he collapsed in an unbelievably loud heap in the doorway to the lab. He cringed, using his good arm to push himself off the floor as the sudden pounding of feet alerted him to the fact that he was no longer alone.

"Steady there," he felt a pair of hesitant arms wrap themselves around him, and shrugged them off angrily.

"You and your stupid pride," a voice he recognised chastised him icily, and he felt a smaller, weaker pair of arms hoist him up onto his legs, ignoring all the silent complaints that he made.

As he stood, he finally gained a closer look at his rescuers. It appeared as though all four turtles were in fact here, along with their rat Master, his Uncle, his sister, and an unknown red haired woman who kept staring at him with concern.

He felt like a prisoner, surrounded by the wardens.

Immediately, the defensive walls went up; his eyes setting to a suspicious glare as his gaze darted from one figure to the next. "Where am I?" His own voice sounded alien to him- cracked and worn, as if someone had pushed sand paper down his throat.

"You're with the people who saved your sorry ass," his sister's voice snapped, and he turned his head to look at her.

There was a hollowness to her eyes that told him of the hardships she'd been through; of the nightmares she'd lived. But they were still her eyes; still the deep chocolate eyes that had pulled him through so many dark times.

His face softened as he looked at her, taking in the new and old scars; the colour and length of her hair; how much she'd grown since he left; and how much she'd aged. He opened his mouth to apologise, but shut it just as quickly, averting his gaze ashamedly.

The sigh he heard just then filled him with guilt as she shifted his weight more comfortably over her shoulders. It was then that he realised he had in fact been leaning on her for support. Quickly, he straightened himself and removed his arm, allowing his own legs to bare his weight.

"So, um," Casey started, trying to break the awkward silence that had so suddenly formed over the group. "How're ya feelin'?"

"Fine," Takumi answered curtly, eyebrow raised slightly at his Uncle. "You look better since last I saw you," the Japanese lilt to his voice suddenly becoming noticeable when compared with his Uncles thick New York accent.

"Yeah, well, you know. Times change an' all that," Casey offered a brief smile as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

Another silence.

Takumi began to tire, especially seeing as how his body seemed to be using up most of its energy trying to heal itself. Turning on his heels, he limped back into the lab, returning to the soft mattress of the bed. "How long have I been here?"

"Day and a half," the purple banded turtle spoke, appearing quickly through the doorway, followed by the rest of the small group.

He looked up in silent shock, before nonchalantly swinging his legs back upon the bed. Perhaps making his presence known wasn't the best idea; the situation just seemed to go from awkward, to a down right 'kill-me-now' scenario.

"Okay, let's just cut the crap here," his sister snapped. He knew what was coming. "Why the hell were you down here?"

Okay, maybe he didn't know what was coming.

Blinking stupidly at her, he turned to gaze at each turtle separately. "Do you want the truth, or would you prefer a lie?" He took their silence to mean that they didn't want to waste their time. "Mistr… Karai wants the turtles dead. She thought that my relationship with you would help me gain contact with these mutants. In doing so, I could lead them to her, or her to them."

Yet another silence. He was getting sick of these.

"How do we know you're telling us the truth?" His sister spoke with such suspicion that he was truly hurt.

"Her goals are not my own, I never intended for it to go this far. I…" He was cut off.

"You joined the foot, Ben! How could you join them and not know what you were getting yourself into," Sam cried out loudly. "Are you really that naïve? But of course, you never actually think things through, do you? Just leave on a fucking whim. Now look what's happened!"

"Sam," the red banded mutant placed a firm hand on Sam's shoulder. Takumi half expected, and half hoped, for her to blow up in his face, but when she actually began to calm down, it tore him in two.

"Hoshi," he pleaded. "I would never lie to you. Please, believe me."

"It's not me you have to prove yourself too," she said through clenched teeth, and folded her arms across her chest. "Ben."

Takumi flinched; the venom in her voice so sharp it pierced his soul.

"It certainly sounds like Karai," the blue masked mutant reasoned, his eyes staring down at Takumi like laser beams.

"We have no choice but to believe him. Donatello, check his wounds, make sure he hasn't torn open any stitches. Michelangelo, go and prepare something for our guest to eat. Leonardo and myself will be in the dojo," the aged rat said, turning with a click of his cane, whispering something to the red masked turtle before leaving with the eldest of his sons.

"Order please Monsieur," Michelangelo smiled, standing to attention beside the young mans bedside.

"Just get him some porridge with strawberry jam," Sam told Mikey softly, eyes never leaving her older brother. "Thanks Mike."

Takumi blinked in surprise, but his passive façade never faltered. In his younger years, whenever he was ill, their mother always used to make him a bowl full of porridge, with either honey or jam drizzled over the top to sweeten it. To him, it was the ultimate comfort food, and just the memory of it almost caused a smile to stretch his lips. He was surprised that Sam still remembered, or cared.

"One order of porridge, coming up," the youngest turtle smiled at both Kagemori's before leaving the room to its four remaining occupants.

"Why the renaissance?" he broke the brief silence as the purple banded mutant began to check over his wounds, to which he obliged willingly.

"It was the first book Master Splinter found after we had been mutated," the turtle currently checking his wounds murmured. "He gave us names from four of the artists he read of in that book. Lift your arms as far as you can please."

The oriental male did as he was asked, and lifted both his arms. He found that his left arm ached too much to be lifted as far as his right, and it stretched his stomach too much to lift either too high. He watched as the turtle busied himself with the sutures across his stomach, checking each stitch before nodding in satisfaction and backing away, allowing the eldest Kagemori to lower his arms.

"It all looks as though it's healing nicely, but I wouldn't try to do anything overly strenuous in the next week," Donatello diagnosed, his eyes doing a general sweep over the male. "Especially with that wound in your leg."

"Thanks Donnie," Sam said with a smile, finally breaking her gaze away from her older brother.

"Anytime," the turtle smiled gently back, before turning to Takumi with a placid frown. "Why did Karai do this to you?"

"She said it would appeal to your sensitive nature if I was injured," He scowled darkly, eyes glaring blankly at a spot on the opposite wall, watching the cracks in the brick work, but not actually seeing them.

"I don't understand why you joined the Foot in the first place," Casey stated thoughtfully, earning a nudge from April who glared at him warningly.

"I have my reasons," Takumi said sharply, eyes momentarily glancing at his Uncle, before flickering to his sister.

"Oh really," she retorted sadistically. "Personally, I can't think of anything that could condone that sort of action."

His facial expression softened, and he leant back into the bed, eyes closing tiredly. "I followed the last of the Hokkaido clan from Japan. The Foot was my cover," he explained, his voice cracked and worn. "There are only a dozen of them left. I was so close…"

Sam pursed her lips, and watched her older brother silently. A part of her understood his actions completely at that moment, but most of her still resented him for leaving in the first place. Yet, she also felt incredibly nervous; the thought of telling her older brother about the kidnapping of Danny was causing a bubbling pit of nausea to suddenly over take her stomach.

Opening her mouth to talk, Sam swallowed hard, her tongue suddenly feeling like a dead weight in her mouth. She clenched her fists in anger, her knuckles cracking and turning white from the force before she scowled dangerously and stalked out of the infirmary, leaving a concerned looking Raphael in her wake.

"I'll go talk to 'er," Casey volunteered, forcing a smile at his best friend before rushing after his emotional niece.

"I'll go see if Mikey needs any help with the food," April spoke up soon after, wandering out of the room, leaving Raphael and Donatello alone with the wounded Kagemori.

Needless to say, it was unbelievably awkward.

"When will I be ready to leave?" Takumi finally broke the silence, eyes glancing up at the purple clad turtle, whom he presumed would have the answer.

But before Donatello got a chance to answer, Raphael cut in, "What?" His voice had such a sharp edge, Takumi was surprised he didn't start to bleed. "After two years, you just turn up out'a the blue, stick around to get the shit kicked out of ya, and now you want to leave, without even trying to sort things out with your sister?! How much of an asshole are you!"

Takumi stared in disbelief at this sudden outburst, and narrowed his eyes at the red clad turtle. "How dare you. You know nothing about the circumstances, nothing about me, and nothing about my family; especially my sister," he retorted angrily.

"I know enough to say that right now, she's probably tearin' herself up about this whole thing," Raph spat viciously, hands unconsciously curling into fists. "That she's had to deal with so much over the past two years, all because you up 'n' left like a little chicken-shit. How hard do you think it was for her bringing up Danny all by herself, hm?"

For once, Takumi couldn't retort to anything that he said, because everything he said was true. But that didn't make him feel any better, and his blood still boiled at the very tone of the turtle's voice. "You know what, you're right. I shouldn't have left," He said, a thin frown lining his features as he locked onto Raphael's gaze, equalling the fire he saw there. "But that gives you no right to judge me. I care deeply for my sister and my brother, and would travel to the ends of the earth for them, even if it meant sacrificing myself."

"I think, perhaps, this conversation should be going on between you and Sam, not you and my brother," Donatello finally spoke up, his arms folded across his plastron in a stern manner, eyes glancing at both Raphael and Takumi.

The two other males looked to the purple clad turtle, and then back to each other. They realised, with a single glance, that Donnie was in fact right, and with a silent stare, agreed that they would speak no more on the matter.

She was suffocating under the pressure; her whole world was collapsing in on itself. Everything she'd tried so hard to build and protect was crumbling beneath her feet, and every second that flew by took another piece of her normality with it.

Her steps echoed through her mind as she walked, stopping only when she found herself in the doorway of the room that the turtles let her stay in with her brother. It seemed cold, knowing that her little Ryou would not be sharing it with her. She hugged herself against a sudden chill, her jaw clenching to try and push away the oncoming tears.

"It's goin'ta be okay, you know that, right?" A deep New York accent assured her, placing a large comforting hand on her shoulder.

Sam jumped slightly at the appearance of her Uncle, shocked that she had not heard him approach, and slightly guilty that she had been neglecting her ninjitsu. She'd been more absorbed in her thoughts then she first realised.

"I just don't know anymore," She sighed dejectedly, turning to her Uncle with shimmering eyes. "This time, I just can't see how everything's going to turn out for the better."

Casey watched his niece with a worried frown. Most people assumed that he lacked the emotional maturity to deal with any sort of serious situation, but he wasn't as dense as he first appeared. He'd dealt with his share of hurt, and knew how it could affect those that you cared for.

"Big Bro's back now though. It has to be a good thing," He said softly, rubbing Sam's shoulder in a calming gesture.

"Yeah, battered and broken," She spat bitterly, eyes glaring at the ground. "Not word one from his for two years! Now, out of nowhere, he just turns up with the Foot insignia planted across his chest. I… I can't…"

"I know it's hard," Casey cut in, lifting her head so that she would look at him. "But nothing's ever gonna be easy. You gotta fight for what you believe in, and I know you still believe in Ben, otherwise you wouldn't be beatin' ya'self up like this."

Sam watched her Uncle, and shook her head disbelievingly, "When did you become the wise one?"

Casey snorted in amusement, a cheeky grin stretching his lips, "Nah. I've just been around a lot me."

Sam chuckled, roughly wiping away a stray tear that escaped the corner of her eye. "Yeah, I guess," She replied, letting her voice fall into silence. "I just… I missed him when he left. And now with Danny… I… If he left again, I don't know how I'd cope."

No longer did her well built walls hold back the torrent of tears that she'd concealed for so long. They broke through in streams that fell down her delicate cheeks, and soon onto her Uncles shirt as he held her close in a warm embrace. She returned it, seeking the comfort that she'd always needed, clinging tightly onto the dark blue shirt that hung off his built frame as his deep voice cooed words of comfort into her ear.

"It's goin' ta be fine, I promise," Casey hushed, running his hand through her hair gently. "I ain't going anywhere, and neither are the guys. No matter what happens, we'll be 'ere. You'll never be alone. Together, we'll figure things out."

Slowly, her sobbing began to ease, and the tears soon passed; her Uncles words driving away the sorrow, replacing it with hope. Sniffling quietly, she pulled away, wiping her eyes roughly on her sleeve. "Thanks," She murmured, offering a weak but genuine smile up at Casey.

"Might as well try to be an Uncle, eh?" He teased lightly, a wide smile curling the corners of his mouth as he tucked some stray hair behind his niece's ear.

Sam tutted, a chuckled escaping her throat, "You're the best Uncle a girl could ask for. Even if you are a crazed nut."

Casey laughed, nodding in agreement, "Well then, you gotta promise this crazed nut summink."

"What?" She asked, blinking suspiciously up at her Uncle's face, her eyes still red and puffy from her crying session.

"That you talk to your bro," He replied seriously, his eyes gazing intensely at Sam. "You hav'ta sort this thing out. Promise me Sam. Promise me that you'll at least try."

Her face contorted in one of bitter disgust at the mention of her brother, but it quickly passed as she turned to face the floor, heaving a huge sigh. Slowly, she raised her head to look at her Uncle, and nodded, her lips pursed in a regretful frown, "I promise."

"Good, I was afraid I might've had'ta take drastic action," Casey puffed out his chest intimidatingly whilst a huge grin plastered itself across his face.

"What, get April to talk to me?" Sam teased with a small smirk, earning a glare from her Uncle. She'd already guessed that Casey's one weakness was the independent red head; that and he'd already admitted that they were dating.

They stood in a comfortable silence for a moment, before Casey nudged his niece suggestively. "So, what are you still with me for? Go!"

She blinked stupidly before holding her hands up in mock surrender and backing away with a smirk crawling across her face, "I'm going, I'm going." Shaking her head in disbelief, she turned, and began to make her way back towards the infirmary. But, she paused, and turned back for just a brief moment, "Hey, Uncle C?"

"Yeah?" He looked up, surprised, raising one of his thick dark eyebrows.

"Thanks," she smiled sheepishly, before disappearing round the corner.

Casey watched her leave with a proud smile, shaking his head in disbelief before he went to find a certain fiery red-headed female.

A/n: YAY! It's done. Though this probably won't get updated again for a while, because I want to get my other fic updated before I do this one again- it's been kind of neglected. So, just warning you.

Now, um, I was just wondering, press the button below and leave me a nice review? Please?